Under the Maple Tree
by WorkandHotdogs
Summary: He hasn't seen her since the summer and hopes to find her in the fall, before the winter finally takes him. House/Cuddy.


**A/N:** This is just my interpretation of how I think that House and Cuddy could find each other again some years down the road. I own nothing, although it would be pretty cool if I did :)

It was comfortable down there even though the wind whipped unrelenting through the air. Knees were bent, keeping backs against the tree trunk. The floor was painted with uncountable colours - all coming from the thousands of leaves that now blanketed, hiding the grass. Gloved hands were rubbed together in an attempt to keep them warm but after finding no luck they were thrust back into the pockets they had been hiding in, sucking as much warmth from the folds of fabric as they could. Shoulders were touching, drawing heat through the fabric, spreading and fighting off the cold.

_**If you'd have seen them, you would have understood. I saw them.**_

A hand crept out of its warm pocket and touched the wrist that was showing. The fingers from the hand adjoined to the wrist that was touched appeared, still shrouded in their fleeced material. The fingers joined together, palms touching. It was comfort. Without words. A head tipped to the side and leaned on the shoulder. Hair fanned out, the deep mahogany brown contrasting with the pale jacket it fell onto. Eyes closed slowly. It was crushing - a moment so seemingly unimportant and such an everyday occurrence was being savoured by these two people as though it were a diamond. Breathing levelled out; chests rose and fell in perfect harmony.

_**If you'd have felt what they felt, you would have understood. I felt it.**_

Fingers lost grip and the arm they were part of raised up in the air and reached around the other shoulders; pulling them closer, the mahogany hair now fanned out over the chest. Circles were drawn, delicate, reassuring. One day, everything would be ok. One day the pair huddled under the tree would be happy. They hoped.

If you'd have seen the sincerity of the crystal blue eyes that met in a gaze that could have started a fire, you'd have believed the words. I believed them.

"I'm sorry." The voice shook. Regret? Guilt? Pain?

"I know." The other voice was calmer. Compassion? Forgiveness? Healing?

Eyes were now level, faces square. Beauty? Yes, definitely. There was something else though - beneath the layers of one of them lay a fragile soul wishing for acceptance and love. The other wanted to give. They wanted to give many things back, time certainly. But other things like happiness, and innocence and a childhood that were never part of the life they had lived so far.

Breaths mingled in the free space that floated between the faces. It was then the blaze began. Something ignited in both of the people. Eyelids fluttered shut and lips parted slightly. A light pressure as they finally touched and then the sweetest mixture of tears and cherry lollipops and coffee and everything that was … was, _**them.**_

There was relief - how long had it been since the lips had touched and tasted? Years. Definitely years. The lines around the two sets of ocean blue eyes were more defined. The hair of one was grey and unashamed, while the other as mentioned earlier was disguised under the mahogany coloured dye.

Pads of fingers touched cheeks while tongues still glided against each other. It felt like one thing to both of them. **_Home._**

_********  
_

I felt everything they did. Every emotion, every second of physical contact; shoulders brushing, fingers lacing together. I gave as much as I took. Of course I did. I'm one of them. My hair is no longer the mahogany brown it used to be, but I dye it that way because he likes it.

That day, I had officially retired from the hospital. He'd appeared in the doorway to my office and I'd walked with him to the park. His cane was seemingly the same one he'd had all those years ago. Time had not been as kind as it ought to have. His eyes seemed to have become dull, the spark was missing. His hair was thin and his hands looked frail. Still, his fourth finger on his left hand was empty. Inside I wasn't surprised. There was still some hope.

How we'd made it to the tree and sat underneath it I don't know. Although I noticed with his increasing age his cane almost seemed part of the man now. I couldn't imagine him without it. I didn't want to.

The apology was unexpected but I accepted it. I took it for what it was, a sorry for a lifetime of wrongdoing. I knew he meant it.

The kiss was even more unexpected. The last time we had was all those years ago when my dream of becoming a mother was crushed, for what will probably be the last time. He gave me comfort that time. This time, I gave to him.

The person who I was to be with had come back to me. I shed tears, I was lost for words.

There was one thing left that he did that I must tell you. After 35 years of face-offs, arguments and flirting; Gregory House told me. He looked me straight in the eye and, voice barely above a whisper, said, "Lisa, I love you."

I love him too, and I told him. We'd lived through the spring, the summer and the fall was nearly over. The time was right; all that mattered now was the fact that my winter will be spent with him, in happiness.

*******

_Lisa and Gregory House. _

_Beloved Mother and Father._

_They saw each other in the spring,_

_Lost each other in the summer,_

_Found each other in the fall,_

_and loved each other through the winter._

Two figures stood in front of the tombstone. The same height, the same coloured hair and their blue eyes as peircing as their parents' had been. They looked down at the stone and then out over the horizon and smiled. There was the tree that brought the two most important people in their lives together. Kayleigh and Emma hoped that the seasons would be as kind to them as they had been to their parents. But above anything, they wished for the fall.

Comments and constructive criticism are very welcome, but no flames please.


End file.
